Time Travel Twist How I Accidentally Changed My Sex Part Two
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Time Travel Twist - How I Accidentally Changed My Sex Part Three free porn video
"Where were you all night? Why aren't you in school? We've been worried
sick."
Those were the first things out of my mother's mouth when she came into
my room. I hadn't even given any thought to the fact that mom and dad
must've been petrified that their little girl hadn't come home last
night. The relief combined with concerned angst was written all over
her face.
She hugged me closely first, then looked me in the eye and added,
"You'd better have a good explanation, young lady."
I was again caught so off guard I didn't know what do say. I figured
right away that I'd be unable to know enough about Amy to carry on a
detailed conversation about her life, so I pled ignorance. I told her
I'd blacked out (partly true), and when I woke up, I was at home on my
own bed. I said I didn't remember anything from the last twenty four
hours and was having trouble with memories in general.
"Memories, in general?" she asked.
I told her I couldn't remember things about my life, like my classes
and friends. She looked genuinely worried, but held her composure.
"You really don't know where you've been for the last 24 hours?" She
asked with compassion in her voice.
How could I answer that? "No mom... I don't remember that, and I'm a
bit frightened by it." I replied, trying to sound convincing.
I believed it was the only way to pave the way to figuring out what to
do with my new life. I might confuse my family and friends for the time
being, but it gave me an excuse for the things I couldn't possibly know
about Amy. If I pretended that something traumatic happened that has
caused my memory to shut down, they'd help me re-learn about my life.
Mom hugged me again and said she'd help me figure this out. There was
something very different in her tenderness toward me as Amy that I'd
never encountered as Mark. Was it because her 'daughter' was in
trouble? Like it or not, a son just wouldn't seem so vulnerable in a
similar situation. It may be stereotypical, but a guy gone without
checking in for 24 hours would likely mean he was up to no good,
hanging out with his buddies. But for a young girl to go missing like
that was gigantic! She could've been raped, kidnapped, all sorts of
things. I'm sure those things were going through her mind. Mom asked me
to get a bath and then we'd talk about what to do next.
It was a moment of truth for me in the bathroom. I new I needed to
start to get comfortable with the body I now possessed, so I stood in
front of the mirror, took a deep breath and began to disrobe. I started
with my top. It was a white babydoll T-shirt, the kind the bra is
clearly visible through. Taking off the shirt left me in only a bra
from the waist up. My breasts filled the cups completely and I had more
cleavage than I'd expected. My hair was now over my bare shoulders and
it tickled a bit.
After trying to unclasp the bra for a minute, I took the straps off my
shoulders and spin it around, making it simple to unhook. My loose
breasts bounced and jiggled. I watched that and felt it all in morbid
fascination. They were full and round. The tag on the bra said my size
was 32-B. Considering I assumed I was now only about 5'2", that seemed
like an ample bust size. Looking back into the mirror I saw a very
pretty girl with nice tits.
My face was red with embarrassment. My eyes lowered to an impossibly
narrow waist. If my bust was 32 inches, my waist must have only been
about 18 to 20 inches! I removed the jeans, leaving me only wearing a
pair of pink panties with a small flower on the waistband at the front.
Even while still in my underwear, the mirror showed that I was
undeniably female. If the breasts hadn't been enough to prove that, my
now flat crotch screamed that I could not be considered a man in any
way, shape or form.
I slowly removed my panties, and nearly passed out again when I got a
good look at my form in the nude. My hips were wide, but not overly so.
Everything seemed in proportion. Proportion for a very attractive girl.
I could just hear mom complimenting me on my girlish figure. My behind
seemed exaggerated, adding to what has always been known as the
hourglass shape. My legs looked athletic and smooth, with just a hint
of baby fat that a girl my age would still possess. Wow. I was
breathing heavily now, not out of lust or anticipation, but because I
could sense I was starting to hyperventilate. I sat on the toilet with
the lid down just to catch my breath and gather my wits.
While it was only five feet away, simply walking to the tub minus my
penis and with new breasts bouncing was a sensation I'm sure I'll never
get used to. The void between my legs seemed so incredibly 'wrong'. I
normally would've taken a shower, but since Lynn and I shared the
bathroom (and we'd presumably always been girls), there was no curtain.
I guess we'd always taken baths. After filling the tub and lying back,
I had my first sensation of my boobs floating to the surface. Weird. I
washed my private parts quickly. I did not explore my vaginal area, and
hoped I wouldn't need to anytime soon. The thought of even having a
vagina, Fallopian tubes and ovaries was way too freaky. Could I even
get pregnant? I wondered. I couldn't find any reason to believe I could
not. But the act of making that happen seemed absolutely revolting.
Washing my hair took a lot longer than I'd expected. It seemed to take
forever to get enough shampoo into it.
Why is it that showering or bathing becomes a time when the mind works
at its deepest level? Perhaps it's the solitude of it all. As I was
getting cleaned up, the clarity of what was happening began to sink in.
My claims to amnesia probably would prove to be a good plan. Not only
would I not know enough of my new life to not raise questions
otherwise, but I also found that I was still in a state of shock. My
emotions ranged from anger to grief. I was mourning the loss of my old
self, without the ability to process the weight of it all. I was thrust
into this new life, and I had to simply go with it. 'Easier said than
done' would be an understatement! Dammit... I started crying again. I
have got to get a hold of my emotions.
Finally, I was finished. I wrapped myself in a towel and went back into
the bedroom, where mom was waiting for me.
"Honey, your father is downstairs. He came home as soon as I called."
I didn't comment. Clearly, they had a plan.
"Once you get dried off and dressed, we're going to visit Dr. Barnham."
I guess I should've expected that. Their assessment was that Amy had
lost her mind for at least a day, and wasn't yet thinking clearly.
Medical attention made sense.
Mom picked out some clothes while I dried my hair. Thank God she just
placed a pair of shorts and another babydoll tee on the bed, of course
along with a fresh pair of panties and bra.
Once dried and dressed I put on a pair of flip flops. That's when I
began writing again. I simply must continue writing to keep my thoughts
clear. I feel like I'm on emotional overload, and a clear chronicle of
what's happening will undoubtedly help me stay focused. We're leaving
for the doctor in about ten minutes.
Other than yesterday, this could become the strangest day of my life.
Angelica
- 04.05.2020
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